Nov 30th

c h a l l e n g e for u---

By Depth Writer




''Ask and ye shall receive- ignore the bobbing snarls of passerbyes, for this kind lady or sir is a test. Are you up for the challenge of being seen out loud and in public with mere she who bleeds charcoal?''

Nov 30th


By Depth Writer

I want you like a storm, but know my time is late and this fantasy is just an imagined dream. A storm cannot be tamed if the flame grows a deep firey red. At the bridge which collapsed long ago. 

'Save naught I, but that of yourself, for I am no one and you are everything.'

The salt of water pressed against the pane of my lips- stinging, burning desire flaming from the hell of times ago. Fela singing white neons drape across the gut of hills and the huts of oceans.

A chest so green with envy scoots across colors rhyme and whispers achingly sweet thoughts---





Nov 30th


By Depth Writer

'No dreams bereft my eyes, that of purity has spun itself on seamless pockets above mine head and these skies fill the soul of every mountain bed.'

''Save me, I do plead...''

But there came no relief from this hell, I have swum in, this water black as spades, but still I rise from the sullen soil and pray to the God above. With heavy thoughts leading me in all directions. Body spinning on a rotary cuff and the anguish that has fled the scene, the learning of hills choking on Mother Natures appetizers and the coughing of blackness drowning me slowly.





Nov 30th

Whispering Mills

By Depth Writer

''They have done the unspeakable, the unimaginable any being has ever dreamed of. Yet, they go untarnished, unnamed, unthought of....''

A chest rises and falls, as a wave parts an abandoned shoreline- thoughts become meaningless, undaunted by oblivion and her history wiped away- just as your tears drip with a silent splatter the pores of an arid hill.

''May each devastation take you from the floor of a forest and sit you on the threshold of an eave.''

Yet, many will never notice the beauty in the above- they will only nurture their own self-egos; in the parting of initial observation. The opinion, you or me release is mere subtle hints of the growing inclines in worth and obedience of censored thoughts. Yes, our reasoning has been ambushed and sent on its own little journey through the dales and courtyards of center squares and righteous manners.

''Say it is not so and I will prove you wrong. For I of all people in this cosmic fury has seen, has witnessed the fall of peace, the uprising of hate hit me from all sides, but my side turns neither left or right, only towards the sun and stars is where I feed from.''

Nov 25th


By Depth Writer

Five fingers

flutter like the wings of time

Ever-more verboten

Thoughts linger

muttering he said, she said

rhyming glances to meet the forbidden

Yet, you in the chair keep the chain of drama going

Taking the focus off you and binding it to someone else

Such pettiness in the world today.



Nov 25th


By Depth Writer

I have seen as you too have seen, but the sky meets no eye for they are blind to its own beauty.

Such wonders go unseen, never to speak of its texture or even, its tone- Yet, you sit in high back seats waiting and wandering.

What is it that catches the mind at a stance? That feels no pain or ache, and witnesses no emotion? 

It is you....

That tosses the stone at the center wall, its doors and windows slammed shut...



I have seen

as you, too, have yet to see.


The sky meets no eye

for it cannot be of beauty.

Such wonders go unseen, not to speak its accounts-

its tone, its texture in a maze, a wrath, a chaos.

It is you....


I saw

As you too have seen, but the eyes have never seen beauty in the sky,. or the brightness of eyes, as they met the glance of blindness.

Nov 25th

Open Thy Eyes

By Depth Writer


The pallid painted pail of your palms

For they too, have seen the wrinkles in time and the lips of dawn touch your own chest that's imprinted on the back of humankind.

Its eyes pale against the rich horizon of the best, those that have fought to stay alive. Mere antidotes of destruction seamlessly proportioned in weight and its hills fragrant of the last supper.


Eye Opener, Thought provoking.

Nov 23rd


By Depth Writer

This flower blossoms

from the trunk of old pedestrians.

Nov 23rd


By Depth Writer

Alibis and suicide look down the tunnel of your eyes; the ones who fought so hard to be acknowledged, but the world kept them in close proximity and in closets made of steel.

With just three wheels, they set out to kiss dawn on her beautiful rosy lips and with a blade of love steadily brushing across your cheeks. When it is calm and I can hear my own whispers sing, I know that Heaven has come from above to greet me.

Locked in yesterday's passion, so to be its last and its first, I wave farewell to the horizon with pieces of broken desire- A fire that cannot be put out. Running circles around the carpet of the forest. Thee and me.... we will fly on the wings of a mighty storm.



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